


(interlude) vastness

by ultraviolence



Series: so many constellations [4]
Category: Catalyst: A Rogue One Novel - James Luceno, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Friendship/Love, M/M, Pre-Canon, Romantic Friendship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultraviolence/pseuds/ultraviolence
Summary: Krennic had learnt two very important lessons from all the time he’d spent with one (1) Galen Erso. One: It was extremely hard to persuade Galen to do anything remotely social or fun. Two: It was extremely hard to persuade Galen to do anything remotely social or fun. Three: Galen hates being told what to do. //In which Krennic tried to get his reclusive scientist friend to lighten up a bit and make him smile. Possibly it was ice cream. T for kissing, some cursing, and Galen's general grumpiness. Set a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, a long, long time before events in Catalyst and the movie.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Whew. I'm sorry this took me a while, I just returned from my New Year's vacation. Hope everyone is having a good one. I didn't forget my promise of shameless Galennic fluff after all the angst and foreshadowing of the last part (plus it's time for our boy Galen to be happy), so here you go. I apologise in advance for all the cheesiness this might entail. Enjoy!

It was Sunday, and their day off. 

 _Technically_. Krennic knew that Galen was probably sweating over one homework/project/publication/research or another, not to mention their studies in general, since finals week were coming up pretty soon. For his part, he was doing pretty well, juggling his considerable social life, internship with a large construction company, and studying whenever he can, mostly late at night, at least half-drunk, and almost always ended up with him falling asleep with his face on the datapad. With anyone else, he’d probably be slightly ashamed (since he had an image to maintain and a reputation to uphold), but with Galen Erso, it was common knowledge that his friend could always be counted on to one-up him on this area, especially since they’d officially became roommates.

Speaking of which, his friend was being even more reclusive than usual and, knowing Galen, that’s saying a _lot_.

He could also use a really good shower and a shave. Probably a haircut as well. Krennic watched his friend with obvious pity, said friend still asleep in the couch in the living room (he managed to pull some strings to get them a nice living space, thanks to both his academic reputation and his close acquaintance with most of their professors), a datapad resting on Galen’s face, several empty bottles surrounding him, and a hellish amount of notes and other supplementary materials completing the study hell that every university student has come to know and dread.

“Galen,” Krennic shook him awake, a plan already forming in his mind. “Galen!”

The guy in question mumbled something that Krennic was sure wasn’t Basic (but instead some undiscovered alien language, probably called Ersoish), rubbed his eyes, and groan. The datapad that his face was somehow holding fell to his chest, and Krennic picked it up on impulse. It was some research about crystals. It was _always_ some research about crystals. He’s never quite sure what’s up with crystals, since it’s not his niche (Krennic’s niche was more about revolutionary structures, at least he’d like to think so), but Galen Erso comes in one package with his share of eccentricities. 

It was part and parcel of what draws him to the other boy so.

“If this is about one of your hellish parties, Krennic, I don’t want it.” He said, and Krennic marvelled at the fact that his friend managed to string together a coherent sentence, only slurring it slightly at the end. “They suck and the food suck and the music also suck, and I hate all these people. I hate people.”

“Yes, yes, I understand,” Krennic told Galen, soothingly (at least as much as he can do _soothing_ ), patting his friend’s shoulder comfortingly. “Don’t worry, this isn’t about those. Or other people. In fact, Galen, this is about _you_.”

Galen’s eyes immediately snapped open, red-rimmed and tired but suddenly alert. “This isn’t about my habit of forgetting to wash my dishes after eating, isn’t it? And I swear to god, Orson, that one time I accidentally used your toothbrush and dropped it in the toilet was an _accident_ —“

“No, it’s not that!” Krennic exclaimed, rocking on his heels slightly. It’s true that Erso’s habit of forgetting to do the dishes was quickly becoming a problem in their shared living space, but Orson Krennic was nothing if not resourceful, and that’s where the freshmen comes in. He never had any shortage of freshmen he could borrow. That’s one of the benefits of being popular. 

As for the toothbrush, well, he got himself a new one. Sometimes you have to cut your losses.

“Then what is it about?” Galen said, a baffled expression dawning on his face, slowly raising himself up to a sitting position. “Can we talk about this another time? I’ve told you, I would be an _extremely_ sucky roommate. I just got lucky with Subra. He was out pretty much all the time.”

Krennic sucked a breath, knowing full well (especially from the anxiety underlying his friend’s words) that Galen was on his way of pulling a _full_ Galen Erso. The last time he did that, they were extremely drunk, in a farewell party for a certain senior Krennic was especially fond of, and Galen managed to embarrass not only himself, but also Krennic (in spades), and pretty much the rest of the various assembled parties, also including the rest of the faculty (who wasn’t even invited). His friend must be under _serious_ stress. 

In any case, it was important to _never_ go full Galen Erso. Krennic tried his best placating smile, straightening himself up, and sat himself beside his friend, trying his best to mind all the notes and datapads and various stuff that was there with Galen. He just hoped that there wouldn’t be any sharp things lying around. He was rather fond of his backside. Krennic gave Galen another friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Galen,” He started, testing the waters, trying not to hit any land mines in the way. It was important that he played this right, or they won’t have any Sunday together to speak of, and Krennic took it upon himself _very seriously_ to make his friend happy. “You’re not a sucky roommate. I wouldn’t have asked you if I thought you’d suck. You know how I feel about you.”

“Then what is this _really_ about?” Galen exclaimed, obviously about to bolt, and Krennic sighed. His friend, obviously, was still out of it. 

“ _Galen_ ,” He said, more slowly, as if speaking to a very small and intellectually-challenged child. The person in question immediately narrowed his eyes at him. “It’s Sunday.”

There was a considerable silence between them, wide and growing. Galen was still eyeing him suspiciously, as if at any given moment now Krennic would give the sign and a bunch of people would come in and start singing happy birthday. That actually happened before. It doesn’t really end well. 

Krennic smiled at his friend widely. 

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at, here, Orson,” His friend finally said, defensively clutching his hands to his chest. “You know I don’t speak whatever it is you Lexrulians speak back in your home planet. You know I don’t like playing _games_.”

“I’m not playing any games, I promise,” He raised his hands, palm open, in the universal gesture of _I’m not fucking with you and I don’t have anything up my sleeve_. “It’s not my fault that you Grangers are so dense.”

Galen scowled, an expression Krennic has come to know and cherished. “I swear, Callan—“

“It’s Sunday,” Krennic interjected, waving the rest of his friend’s words away. “And it means we’re going to have some _fun_.”

* * *

Krennic had learnt two very important lessons from all the time he’d spent with one (1) Galen Erso. One: It was extremely hard to persuade Galen to do anything remotely social or fun. Two: It was extremely hard to persuade Galen to do anything remotely social or fun. 

Three: Galen _hates_ being told what to do.

The trick to this is to prepare things in advance and drag him into it, kicking and screaming if needed. Krennic had no intention whatsoever of having offspring of his own (just the thought of it made him gag, and it was hard to believe that he was one, _once_ ), but Galen was pretty much all the parenting experience that he needed. Maybe he’d even put it on his resume.

“I would much prefer to stay at home and finish studying,” His friend pointed out, still in the bathroom (Krennic had managed to persuade him to get out of _both_ his sweatpants and the couch, and even insinuate that he’d get extra brownie points if he showered and shaved), jaw probably full of shaving cream. Krennic himself was sitting in the couch Galen  had recently deserted, sorting through the mess that Hurricane Erso had made overnight and trying his best to make the living room looked more presentable. It’s important to one’s social standing, especially if one is currently having a _good_ one. 

After five minutes, he gave up, and emptied enough space for him to sit without the fear of crushing some important research from the brain of the respected Galen Erso underfoot. He really wasn’t good at this being domestic thing. He pulled out his own datapad and began scrolling through today’s news instead.

“It won’t do if you drag me out today,” Galen continued to lament his woe from the bathroom, a monologue in three parts. Krennic was used to this by now.

“Don’t you have your _own_ studies to worry about, anyway?” He came out of the bathroom, jaw now shaven, looking very obviously several degrees cleaner. His hair still looked very much unkempt, though. It looks like something died in it, was resurrected, and then died again promptly. 

“Orson, your studies are really much more important—“ This was part three of the monologue that Krennic had heard a thousand times before, in various shapes and sizes. Galen was so predictable sometimes. 

“—than gallivanting around pointlessly. I _know_. You mentioned it quite often, Galen.” 

The guy in question furrowed his brow, as if genuinely surprised that his friend could predict what he was going to say. Knowing Galen, he was probably indeed _surprised_. He had very little self-consciousness sometimes, Krennic almost pitied him. But mostly he’s just plain adorable. Krennic grinned.

“If I need motherly advice, I’d give my mother a holocall. She’d probably just tell me to stop being a little shit.” They also never kept in touch anymore, not really, ever since he left for the Republic Futures Program, but Krennic would rather not spare any thought towards that. It was probably for the best. His family would just get in the way.

In a way, they were both orphans.

“What’s that supposed to _mean_?” Galen remarked with a frown, pondering this too deeply. Typical Galen Erso. Krennic sighs for the umpteenth time that morning. 

“That means that you’re being a _mum_ , Erso. Stop mothering me.” He stole a glance at the chronometer display in his pad. It won’t do if they spent the entire morning arguing. He had to get this moving, and fast.

“But I’m _not_ mothering you—“ Galen protested, obviously ready to fight all day. Krennic glares at him.

“Yes you are. You are right _at this very moment_. Just get dressed, tidy up your hair, and let me surprise you _for once_.”

They are then locked in a staring battle for several moments or so, Galen scowling his characteristic scowl, Krennic just plain determined to get this over with. He crossed his arms over his chest, demonstrating that he will not relent. Not to Galen’s theatrics. Galen, to his credit, finally sighed, and looked away.

“ _Fine_. But if this involves a stupid party and a bunch of stupid people, I want no part of it.”

“That’s only for your birthday,” Krennic quipped, “Now shoo. You have a hair to brush and the rest of you to be made presentable.”

His friend glared at him mightily, obviously wants to strangle him to death, but shuffles slowly to his room, in the meanwhile looking in all the world like someone who was forced to do something terrible he absolutely wants no part of, not going out with a friend. It was so comical, Krennic had to stifle a laugh.

“You are such a dad sometimes, Orson,” He remarked, acidly, before slamming the door shut behind him. For all his age and professed maturity, the prodigy from Grange can certainly be a grumpy 15-year old teenager at times. 

Krennic smiled to himself. He also fancied that he heard Galen mumble under his breath that _he_ already looked good this early, and how unfair it was. He’d put on his nicest coat and pair of good boots not for naught, and had already shaved and showered and slicked back his hair before going about his business of waking up his friend.

It was shaping up to be a great day so far.

* * *

“You said there won’t be any stupid people.” Galen complained, predictably, when they reached their destination. Along the way, he’d been quiet, just expressed a garden-variety curiosity about where Krennic had obtained the airspeeder they rode (a sleek, relatively new model—Krennic would not be seen with some old, rotten one). “I know some people,” The younger boy told his friend, by way of explanation. He knew perfectly well that Galen probably wouldn’t understand the circle of debt, need, and favours involved, even if he tried to explain. Even with several handy interactive _diagrams_. It’s just something Galen Erso, the genius polymath, wouldn’t comprehend. 

“I never said there’s not going to be any people around,” Krennic countered, finding a loophole in Galen’s argument. “It’s _Coruscant_. Besides, we’re not going to mingle with them.”

“You didn’t even tell me where you’re taking me.” Galen grumbled, as they dismounted their airspeeder. Krennic dusts off some imaginary pollution from his clothes, and stretches himself a fair bit. It wasn’t a long ride by Coruscant standards, but they’d spent the last fifteen minutes or so on the vehicle, him behind the wheel, since he doubted that Erso can drive. Some days, he even doubted that Galen can _walk_. His friend was such an absent-minded scientist, that it was sometimes necessary to take precautions. Not letting him drive, ever, is certainly the right call, in Krennic’s opinion. It saves a lot of lives on the road.

Plus, the airspeeder wasn’t his, so it was definitely a must to keep it as it is: sleek, and undamaged. Otherwise, he’s going to have a lot more headaches than just trying to keep Coruscant’s lanes Galen-free. It was possible that the roads of Coruscant won’t survive Hurricane Erso. 

“It’s going to ruin the surprise,” Krennic told him, tugging his friend forward. Said friend went obligingly, like an oversized Loth-Cat that was keen on staying home. “You won’t like it anyway if I told you.”

“Try me.” Galen challenged, following him as they navigated their way through the streets and around the various denizens of Coruscant. It was All-Species Week, the last day of it, in fact, and the celebrations were in full swing. There was a contingent of Twi-Leks going their way, in various colourful costumes, and Krennic deftly dragged his friend through the sea of lekkus and Twi-Lek kids staring curiously at the both of them. 

“You don’t like _anything_ ,” Krennic countered, not giving up the ghost, having to shout a bit above the din of the crowd. “Except maybe those blasted crystals of yours.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true.” Galen said, his voice soft, almost lost beneath all the music and the shouting and conversations going on all around them in various languages from various systems. Krennic had to stop and really listen to him. “I liked something else besides crystals.”

“What?” The younger boy instinctively asked, furrowing his brow. This is something not even Krennic can hazard a guess about—there are uncharted depths inside Galen Erso, things that even he, as Galen’s closest friend and confidant, only had brief glimpses about. Sometimes it’s funny—like his habit of drinking blue milk every morning—but other times it was plain surprising. He wondered to which category this one belonged.

Galen smiled, the first time that day, a smile that speaks of secrets shared, inside jokes, and times spent together. Then, surprisingly, he lightly touched Krennic’s hair, running his fingers briefly through it with his free hand. 

“Maybe I’ll tell you,” He said, glancing sideways, hand back to his side—every inch a mystery.

* * *

“You could have just told me about this,” Galen accosted, looking every inch a betrayed man. He looked so hurt, as if Krennic had told him a huge lie, and it was sort of adorable, the younger boy had to laugh. 

“I told you, it would ruin the surprise,” Krennic grinned, plopping himself beside his friend on the bench. 

“Really? _Ice cream_?” He continued, glancing suspiciously at the cup his friend had given to him. “And you were like…sit here, Galen, I won’t be long, and you won’t even tell me about _anything_ , and it gave me all the heebie-jeebies in the meanwhile—“

“Just relax,” Krennic sighed, eating his own ice cream. It was mint chocolate chip, and it was every bit as good as the reviews had said. Good thing that he followed all the latest trends, including gastronomical ones, around Coruscant. “You’re overthinking again, Walton.”

“And _you_ don’t have to be so goddamned _secretive_ , Krennic,” Galen refuted, still glowering. It was a little hard to take him seriously, not when Krennic was enjoying his ice cream greatly. He glanced at his friend. The person in question needs to start eating his own ice cream if Krennic’s plan is going to work. 

He decided that he wasn’t in the mood for arguments. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, just eat your ice cream,” Krennic gave him a nudge, still stuffing himself and not caring very much about it. “It’s going to melt, and then you won’t have anyone to blame but yourself.”

Galen glared daggers at him, obviously still feeling cheated for some unfathomable reason (it was all for the greater good, Krennic told himself, for his friend’s own _good_ ), but Krennic outright ignored him, taking in the scenery instead. The park was relatively deserted, since most people was taking part in the celebrations, and there was something to be learnt about the aesthetic arrangements and the winding paths between the spacious trees. The Republica District is visible in the distance, a fine collection of buildings, and he vaguely wondered if he’ll ever get a chance to visit the district someday. 

“You’re right,” Galen interrupted his musings, equally as abrupt as his silence earlier, and Krennic brought his gaze back to him. “This ice cream is good.”

“See? What did I told you?” Krennic responded, feeling as if he'd already won. He gave Galen a smug smile.

“You _never_ told me anything,” He insisted, and Krennic raised an eyebrow at him, doing his best to look innocent, tucking his smile away. “Well, you never,” Galen continued, undeterred. “With all your surprise parties and invitations and constant gallivanting around. I don’t know how I can keep up with you sometimes, Orson.”

There was a silence as Krennic tried to digest all of this. It was true that he sometimes kept certain things from Erso, but he wouldn’t call that withholding information. Not really. At the same time, there was a question that nags him…

“How did you know the ice cream is good, if I never told you?”

Galen looked surprised, and started fidgeting. The last time he did this was when he accidentally threw Krennic’s favourite mug out with the trash. The younger boy narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“Well…you seem happy,” He pointed out, lamely, not looking Krennic in the eye. “So I just…sort of deduced that it was to your liking.”

“You paid attention.” Krennic said, a statement, instead of a question. He fixed his gaze intensely on his friend, ice cream forgotten.

“It’s my line of work,” Galen mumbled, retreating to his shell even more hastily now. “That’s what I do.”

Krennic had to do something to fix this, before his friend had truly retreated inside his shell. Then it would be _impossible_ to get anything out of him. He straightened himself up.

“Galen,” He started, throwing his free arm in the space between them haphazardly, trying his best to sound casual, even if his heart was beating wildly, a caged thunderstorm. “Thank you.”

“What for?” His friend immediately asked, a look of confusion spread over his face. 

“For paying attention,” Krennic told him, feeling his voice soften against his will. It was meant to be a ploy, to bait Galen into saying whatever was running in that brilliant, labyrinthine mind of his (into saying how he truly _feels_ ), but he'd fallen for his own trap, it seems. It's too late to back down now. Krennic swallowed his pride, and continued. “It means a lot.”

To his surprise (well, more like _both_ of them since Galen frequently surprised even himself), Galen smiled, gently, patting his head. The caged thunderstorm in Krennic’s chest turned into a cyclone, a supernova of becoming. 

“I liked you, Orson,” His friend confessed. “That’s another thing I liked besides crystals. Now you know.”

He never knew how to answer to things like that, never felt the need to until he met Galen Erso. Instinctively, they leaned closer together. An amiable silence fell between them, and Krennic never wanted the moment to end.

“I should start doing the dishes and liberate the freshmen you’re enlisting,” Galen finally said, breaking the sacred silence, the magic, and Krennic scowled at him.

“Now you’ve ruined the moment,” He pointed out, pulling away in mock annoyance. Galen laughs—the most wonderful sound Krennic had ever heard, ever since he came to Coruscant—and not long after, he followed suit.

“Thank you, Orson,” His friend said, after their laughter collapsed and another silence fell between them. Breathless, Krennic put his elbow on his knee, turning slightly so he could get a better look at the boy beside him. He affected a look of confusion. 

“What for?” It was his turn to ask. Galen smiled a lopsided smile, and he felt the strangest desire to lean forward and kiss his friend. He didn’t, instead letting his mind run over every detail of his smile, every curl of his lips, the way his brown eyes twinkled when he smiled. He wanted to memorise it and carry the memory with him, always.

“Today,” He simply said, and Krennic had to lean back on his seat, had to catch his breath, felt himself falling a free fall that he’d heard so much about, but never actually experienced. He wondered if it’s real. 

He wondered if Galen felt the same.

“I told you,” He told the older boy, suddenly feeling emboldened, “Anything for you.”

Not waiting for an answer, Krennic leaned forward and kissed him, tasting traces of vanilla ice cream in the process. Unexpectedly, Galen kissed him back in a startling display of affection, more than a little clumsily, and Krennic suppressed a laugh.

“Your skills in this area left much to be desired, Erso,” He said, in his best imitation of a professorial voice.

“Shut up, Callan,” Galen responded, and kissed him again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd have to write an everyone is happy AU for them someday soon. This is apparently not canon compliant after all, since in canon Galen is 20 and Krennic is 15 when they joined the Futures Program. I'd like to think that in my version, they were both in their twenties, so treat this like a slightly canon compliant college AU or something. In any case, thank you for reading, and, as always, comments & suggestions welcome! Feel free to hmu on [Tumblr](http://mindmagic.co.vu) too if you need to cry about this ship or something.


End file.
